


Filling in the pieces

by suicidein_angeleyes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, bottom!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:10:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1383661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suicidein_angeleyes/pseuds/suicidein_angeleyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s something about taking Derek Hale apart that gives him an intense satisfaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Filling in the pieces

**Author's Note:**

> This is shameless smut for the sake of smut. Unbetaed so any and all mistakes are my own.

There’s something about taking Derek Hale apart that gives him an intense satisfaction.

 

Stiles is _human_ and he and Scott were always close, always together, but that had made a sudden jump sophomore year, when Scott had gotten bitten by a werewolf. And, then, it was still Scott and Stiles. But, there was also Scott and Allison and some sort of Scott and Derek and strangely, ever so strangely, Stiles and Derek. And then there was a brief moment where he thought it might be Stiles and Lydia, but that was still Lydia and Jackson and then Peter fucking Hale came into the picture.

 

Peter offered him the bite. Nearly killed Lydia, threatened Stiles, and then _offered him the bite._ And then proceeded to kill Kate Argent in front of Allison and Chris. Nearly killed them all.

 

Derek was the alpha, Scott was still a werewolf, Allison was a badass hunter in training, and Stiles… Stiles was still human.

 

And maybe that’s what makes it so. Fucking. Good. To be able to take Derek apart. After everything with Jackson turning into a giant lizard, and three new betas all dead set on proving themselves from such quiet roots, lives where no one had noticed them. Gerard and Victoria Argent.

 

The shit storm that was their lives.

 

Sometimes, Stiles wonders how it went from Derek jumping through his window to threaten his life for information to the wolf face down, ass up in a bed in the ratty train car he calls home, biting into the pillow as Stiles worked behind him. He knew he’d come barging in, livid and determined that they stay the fuck away from Lydia. Demanded it, pushing and shoving and pressing into Derek’s space even when red alpha eyes glowed back at him. Pushed, even when Derek wasn’t afraid to push back. Counter anything Stiles could do. Thrown the boy around until he’s finally pinned him down, one hand locked around the boy’s wrists.

 

_“Really, Stiles? You’re getting off on this?” Derek growled, red eyes fading back to hazel green, though he hadn’t moved from his position on the boy’s hips._

_Stiles jerked, but Derek held steady with ease. The boy was all long limbs and lean muscles he hadn’t quite grown in to. Even if he had, he had Alpha strength on his side. Stiles thrashed once more before glaring. “I’m sixteen, Derek. I know you might not remember that, but it’s pretty much the time of inconvenient fucking boners. Now get the fuck off me.”_

_And, Derek had, releasing Stiles with the infuriating smirk and telling him to play with humans and let the wolves handle their business. Stiles just barely kept himself from taking a swing at him._

In the name of inappropriately timed boners, it kept happening. It made Stiles really question if they were random danger boners, or if something like supporting Derek for two hours in the pool had actually changed something between them. Really questioning it when it doesn’t take a physical scuffle for his cock to start to rise in Derek’s presence when the older man is climbing through his window, demanding information.

 

Stiles is Stiles, and his impulse control has never been the best. And when it comes to a theory, he wants to _prove_ it. Shoving Derek into the wall and _thank god_ his dad’s at work. Because he’s slamming himself into Derek when the werewolf’s back hits the wall and Derek’s growling, low and dangerous before Stiles surges forward. Lips on lips and teeth and tongue. And, for a minute, Derek’s too shocked to react.

 

Then strong fingers are curling against the back of Stiles’ head. Pressing in and against him, but allowing Stiles to keep him pressed up against the wall of his bedroom and rutting against him when Stiles does.

 

Oh, and that’s a shock.

 

He’s not sure which of them is more surprised when Stiles’ drops impulsively to his knees, or when Derek doesn’t stop the hands that go to his belt.

 

Stiles might have thought it was some sort of weird fantasy he dreamed up from too much Adderall. But he wakes up in the morning with come soak boxers on top of his laundry basket, and a note in Derek’s somewhat sloppy hand writing that said they should talk about it.

 

It was something yet to be defined. And, the actually talking about it portion of the program just kept not actually happening. Peter came back. And Jackson was a giant fucking lizard and Gerard was threatening Scott while Derek just wanted his Pack to be whole. No one’s surprised that things kind of spiraled out of control.

 

So, maybe it’s not all that strange that they’ve ended up here. Erica and Boyd took off and no one knows if they’re actually going to come back. Isaac is still so unsure of himself, and Derek seems to feel like he’s crumbling because he trusted Scott and Scott had gone behind his back and forced him to give the Bite to a deranged psychopath, even if he had another plan. So maybe it’s not a surprise that Derek’s a little wrecked, having to kill someone he’d bitten, given that to, turned into a monster. But, Jackson was alive and Stiles couldn’t tell if that made Derek feel better or worse. He did know that he’d gone to find the alpha, getting growled at with red eyes glowing from the dark. And then Derek was there, dragging him forward and falling back on a thing mattress, his hands in Stiles’ hair, dragging the slimmer boy on top of him until their hips fit together.

 

Keeping Stiles on top of him, his hands hot brands on the teenager’s hips. Just holding on, firm and steady. But, still there once he has his hands there, he just… Stays. Letting Stiles’ weight rest on top of him, the younger man’s hands tangling in dark hair, his tongue counting Derek’s teeth and exploring this mysterious _It_ between them.  

 

Derek growls, rolling his hips up against Stiles, feeling an answering erection pressing down against his.

 

Though, Stiles finds, Derek is pliant and easy under him. Allowing Stiles to drag his lips over the stubble on his jaw. For Stiles to drag his tongue over the coarse hair that could probably have used shave a few days ago. Derek shudders, but allows it when Stiles drags his lips lower, across his neck. Let’s Stiles linger over marks that fade moments later, but doing it anyways. Continuing until he hits the neck of Derek’s shirt, dragging it out of the way, but it only stretched so far.

 

“Off.”

 

Stiles is at the point of single syllables, dragging himself upwards to drag at the hem of Derek’s shirt before the wolf even has the chance to comply. Derek doesn’t argue, just lifts his arms for the shirt to come off. And then dragging his hands under Stiles’ shirt and tossing it to the side as well. Stiles didn’t have the thought to spare to be embarrassed, staring down at the expanse of skin that Derek had revealed. All hard muscles and skin that was dark against Stiles’ own.

 

He doesn’t realize he’s been battling all of this out loud until Derek interrupts him. He realizes the werewolf has been repeating his name, his hands pulling and tugging at Stiles’ belt and then the button on his jeans.

 

“…Stiles, I swear to God, just shut up and _fuck me._ ”

 

That catches Stiles’ attention. “What? You want me to…?”

 

Alpha eyes flash red for a moment before fading back to hazel, forcing Stiles to lift to his knees as he lift his hips. “I want you to fuck me. Unless you don’t want to.”

 

“Oh no. No, no, no. I want to. And I’m going to. We are going to fuck. I am going to fuck you. Yes, just,” He rolls off the bed, dropping his jeans where Derek has already gotten them undone and dropping them to the floor. Another pile of fabric drops to the floor, and Stiles is looking back at the bed as Derek is stretched out on his stomach, tossing lube from under the pillow down beside his hip.

 

“… _holy shit._ ”

 

Derek glares over his shoulder, expressive eyebrows drawing together, but before he could roll irritably onto his back, Stiles places a hand between his should blades, right over the Triskelion tattoo. Traces his thumb over one of the swirls and he can visibly watch the muscles in Derek’s shoulders start to relax. Maybe as much as he knows how.

 

Keeping the hand there, he climbs up on the mattress again. Behind Derek, between his spread legs, watching the muscles of his fucking perfect ass tense at the movement before relaxing again. Stiles grasps at the lube, spilling a cold glob onto his own thigh and wincing at the temperature. But, he’s petting his other hand up and down Derek’s spine, feeling the wolf’s back relax and smooth with every pass of his hand, and he’s unwilling to stop that. He’s no stranger to the joys of lube and sure, he’s never done it to anyone else, but Stiles has watched a large and creative selection of porn. He warms the slick substance against his own skin before dragging slick fingers up Derek’s crack. Watches him jump with curiosity that he shouldn’t be able to muster with so much blood rushing to his dick.

 

“Condom?” He asks, pressing one, then two slow fingers into Derek as he relaxes around them.

 

Derek shook his head into the pillow before pausing. “No,” he growls, his voice gruff. He speaks again, softer this time. “No, not unless you want to. Werewolf. Can’t get anything from me.”

 

It gives Stiles pause, but he decides quickly. “Yeah, no. If that’s what you want, we can do that. We can totally do that. Totally.” And Stiles keeps ups a constant stream of babble after that, along the lines of ‘holy shit Derek’ and ‘god you’re so fucking amazing’ and generally sounds like a bad porno script but his brain is fried when Derek drags himself up onto his knees, pushing back against the three fingers Stiles has now worked gently into his hole, back arching easily.

 

“Get on with it, Stiles,” And that’s definitely a deep growl and sets Stiles scrambling for the lube again. Slicking himself, wincing at the cold, but grateful that it helps bring him under control. Because he probably could have come simply from watching Derek come undone under his hands.

 

It seems almost too soon that he’s lining himself up, breathing deeply to control himself. But Derek, Derek’s pressing back where Stiles is holding himself steady, and suddenly he’s breaching him and Derek lets out a breathy whine as Stiles cries out. His hands are tight on Derek’s hips, unable to control his little, aborted thrusts as his hips come to press against Derek’s ass, skin hot. Derek’s shaking, his hands forming claws against the sheets.

 

Stiles groans as Derek clenches against him, ducking his head. “Fuck, Derek. Fuck, you gotta gimme me a chance or this going to be over way too fucking fast.”

 

The only response he receives is a grunt and Derek pressing into the leverage his has to press back against Stiles again, making the teenager groan. And, there’s adjustment and time and pain to think of, but apparently Derek has already passed all of that, and Stiles rolls his hips unsteadily, trying to find some sort of rhythm. Having Derek under him isn’t fucking up into his own fist, but when Stiles starts to thrust, Derek settles for rolling his hips back liquidly and letting Stiles fuck into him easily, arching his back and rutting down against the sheets.

 

And, Stiles isn’t wrong. He can feel the warmth building in his stomach, curling through his toes. “Derek, fucking. I’m gonna come.”

 

And, Derek doesn’t pause his movement. If anything he clenches harder around Stiles, a growl ripping through him that sounds something like ‘do it’ and Stiles has no chance. Blunt nails dig into Derek’s hips as he does, warmth spreading through him, collapsing slip and sticky over Derek’s back. The werewolf grunts under Stiles’ weight, and the teen rolls to the side, dragging Derek with him. His hand slides down Derek’s stomach to where he’s still leaking and hard. Derek gasps as Stiles strokes him, squeezing as he presses his forehead between the wolf’s shoulder blades.

 

Derek comes, warm and slick over Stiles’ hand, his back arching prettily against Stiles.

 

They’re both quiet and still for long moments. Derek catches Stiles’ sticky hand before he can wipe it on the sheets, drawing slim fingers up to his mouth and licking them clean. Stiles groaned loudly, biting in the back of Derek’s shoulder.

 

“ _Fuck_ , dude. I need like, twenty minutes before I can go again. And I’m really going to have to if you keep that up.

 

Derek grunted, shaking his head. “Go to sleep, Stiles.” And his voice is sleep rough and drowsy, orgasm stupid maybe because he lets Stiles press up against his back, rolling back away from the wet spot. Stiles sighs lightly, because yeah, he could definitely sleep after coming like that. But he just had _sex._

 

With _Derek Hale_ , alpha werewolf extraordinaire. Stiles curls his arm over Derek’s chest, pressing his nose into the nape of his neck. “So, Derek? Is this going to be a thing? Like a thing, thing? A thing we do all the time? Or just a life affirming, we just survived something we probably shouldn’t have with minimal death kind of thing?”

 

“Stiles?” Derek paused and Stile did as well, quiet for a minute. “Shut up and go. The fuck. To sleep. Or I’m throwing your naked ass out on the street.”

 

Stiles sighed dramatically, but he didn’t actually doubt he’d be thrown out on his ass, so he quiets, curling against Derek’s back and sinking into his warmth and comfort there. Sometimes the alpha needed to let someone else have control for a little while.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to write some porn and there's no where near enough bottom!Derek in the world. This is what happened in a little under two hours.


End file.
